First Time For Everything
by ProgressiveProcrastinator
Summary: Quinn Fabrays first time is not what she expected. It's not like anybody else's either. Rated M for future chapters. Deadly Four concept go to intergalactickoala on tumblr, read her Deadly Four fanfic. SLOW UPDATES (Half hiatus)
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note. Please read.**

This is my very first time writing anything like this. First time writing fanfiction.

So this is the first chapter in what I'm hoping to be a few. The concept does not belong to me, neither do the characters.

**IMPORTANT NOTICE **The Deadly Four universe belongs to intergalactickoala . tumblr .com/ Go and read her 'Deadly Four' fanfic, it's the original idea, credit goes to her.

So this will contain material that some may be sensitive to, including rape, murder and probably sex (most likely female on female) If any of these things affect you in a bad way or if you do not like reading it, please do not read it.

I think that it, so, enjoy. (If you can that is)

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><p>My first time was when I was 15. I had a Saturday job helping out Mr. Brown at the grocery store. Mr. Brown was in his late thirties, he had a buzz of short blonde hair with dark brown eyes. Quite a muscular man and was always had a very positive attitude toward everything, always generous and willing to help anybody, as to be expected of the store owner.<p>

It was a usual dreary weekend, so naturally, the shop was empty. My shift was ending at 6 but it was only 5. I remember Mr. Brown asking me to go out to the back room to get our jackets, because we were closing early, as he shut the cash register down.

As I walked into the small room at the back of the store I noticed that he'd followed me into the room. Before I realized what had happened he had pinned me to the lockers on the right wall of the little room. His only other options had been the desk on the left side of the room, or the back of the door. I see now that maneuvering me to the side, into a solid surface after walking in had been the better option to him. He'd left the door wide open with his back turned to it. Smart. Using his forearm he pinned me to the lockers trapping my hands too. I didn't know what to do.

"I've seen the way you look at me Quinn. Stop struggling!" He'd raised his voice slightly, an attempt to show me he had all the power in this situation.

I don't remember feeling scared at all. I probably was, but I don't remember it.

As he pinned me firmly against the lockers I felt him push his body into mine.

"I see the looks you give me. With that little innocent Christian girl act of yours…" He trailed off while his hand made its way up to my thigh, under my light blue summer dress slightly. His calloused, dry fingers brushing the skin there.

"Mr. Brown, you don't want to do-" I was but off by his other hand tugging my panties down with one clean sweep and a finger roughly stroking through my folds.

"Ah come on Quinnie. I know I make you wetter than this." With that he made his way upwards slightly to circle then harshly – painfully – pinch my clit.

I didn't really know what was happening at that point. All I know it that as he withdrew his hand from my legs and reached for his belt buckle, I had to get him off of me.

Before I could register what was happening I'd brought my knee up with just enough force to send Mr. Brown crippling to the floor holding his now unprotected crotch, howling in pain. While he was stunned on the floor, I took my only chance.

I turned to him as he was starting to recover. "You little bitch!" With one swift kick and a satisfying _crack_ Mr. Brown lay silently twitching on the floor.

Another kick but with a slightly quieter _crack_ Mr. Brown was then motionless, completely still.

I had kicked his nose. With the angle he was curled on the floor, the force of the connection with my foot had detached the bridge of his nose from the skull, puncturing the brain.

Dead.

In seconds.

Just like that.

At that moment I felt no shock, or fear, only relief. Relief that I had killed a man. Relief with satisfaction, power, control. Then it all crashed down on me.

_I had just killed a man._

And it felt good.


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Note  
><strong>I didn't know how difficult fanfics could be to write until I actually tried it. But whatever, I'm giving it a go  
>I'm hoping that you liked the first chapter. I'm not really sure where I'm going with this, I haven't set out a plot to be honest, just writing as it comes. So if anybody has any suggestions, thoughts or comments, let me know I'm all ears.<p>

The first chapter was quite short so I might make them longer if you guys want?

**IMPORTANT NOTICE**The Deadly Four universe belongs to intergalactickoala . tumblr .com/ Go and read her 'Deadly Four' fanfic, it's the original idea, credit goes to her.

So this will contain material that some may be sensitive to, including rape, murder and probably sex (most likely female on female) If any of these things affect you in a bad way or if you do not like reading it, please do not read it.

As I got over my power surge, I stopped. Took a step closer to the open door and looked at the body on the floor. The body that now had a generous sized pool of blood around it's head, leaking out of the nose.

That blood to me looked magnificent. Bare blood, shining in the light, for all to see. In all of it's glory, the red showing how deep it had been buried in that thick head of Mr. Brown. It was the perfect consistency, not quite like water, but not too gooey so it wouldn't pour onto the floor like glazing honey.

Then the worry kicked in. _I'd killed a man. _That would make me a murderer. At fifteen. **You're not the youngest killer around **came the voice from the back of my head.

I kept telling myself not to listen to it, because all it's done for me in the past was get me in some kind of trouble. I knew it wasn't reliable. **But you know I'm right **I knew it was. It always was.

Despite it being right, I knew I couldn't bring her into this, she has enough to worry about without me on her back, without me to -literally- clean up after. I needed to figure out what I was going to do with the mess that was on the floor.

**Give in. She's your only option. You know it** I'd had enough, whether it was going to end badly for me or not, that annoying voice was right. **"Always am **it said with a smug tone. She was my only choice; she'd know what to do.

So I took out my phone. **Good girl **_Great, now it's snickering at me _I thought.

I dialled the one person I knew could help. The one person who'd know what to do.  
><em>My best friend.<em>

It rang  
><em>*Ring* *Ring* *Ring* <em>"What's up Blondie?" **Straight to the point.**

"S, I- I need your help. I didn't know who else to call, I…" I just blurted it out, getting slightly panicked. Reality kicking in.

"Whoa, Q, slow down. I'm with Britt, where are you? I'll be there in five okay? I'm on my way." **Always there for you, she never fails.**

"Shut up!" It just slipped out. I could hear Brittany in the background asking what was going on. Then the sound of keys clinking together.

"What? Q? What's going on?" She was getting agitated; I could hear it in her voice.

"No! San, not you. I… I'm at work," _I need you to help me clean up a murder scene._

"Okay, me and Britt are on our way, stay put," _Not Brittany._

"No San, don't bring Brittany… just… don't bring her with you," She could hear it in my voice, she knew.

"Right. I'll take her home on my way there. Don't move okay, just, I'll be right there now. Don't move okay?"

"O- Okay… p- please hurry…" It came out weakly. I felt weak, ashamed. And she could tell. She always could.

She hung up and I put my phone back into my cardigan pocket. I turned straight for the door back to the front of the store.

**Lucky you, nobody around to scream to mom and dad. That makes a change doesn't it? **Great, here came the mocking.

I started pacing slightly, on edge, –naturally- contemplating what to do while I waited for Santana. Everything was going by so slowly.

**Never were the patient type were you, little girl?**

"STOP! Just stop. You don't know anything. You don't know me. You never have and you never will. Just stay away from me!" The sudden outburst was surprising to me. All of the pressure from the situation building up and finally being released.

**Now now, calm head Dear. I'm your best friend. You know you can't get away from me. I live inside of you. Without me, you'd be all alone, and you know it.**

"No… that's not true, I have friends, I- my family they-"

**Can just about put up with you. **It cut off my somewhat self-motivating stuttering. **Don't lie to yourself, you're boring and tiresome, face it, you're practically invisible.**

'_This can't be happening' _I thought, panicked. My hands rushing up to clutch at the sides of my head. My body slightly bending over, in a poor attempt at closing in on myself. Only then did I see a tear fall to the floor, pointlessly hoping it wasn't one of my own.

"Stop, please…" I sobbed. "Just stop," my voice getting higher in pitch but lower in volume.

*DING* - the bell on the door went off. Somebody had just walked into the store. I froze, they were standing just a few meters away from a hysterical blonde teenager and nothing was happening.

"Quinn? Quinn? What's wrong?" Santana's worried voice and pause after closing the door after entering made me look up.

At that moment looking into the Latina's deep brown eyes, I saw our childhood.

_Quinn was sitting at her desk looking at all of the other children of 1__st__ grade that were playing outside on the yard. All but one. There was a new girl in her class, Santana Lopez. Quinn Fabray and Brittany S. Pierce were good friends. It wasn't uncommon to find them playing in the sandbox or taking it in turns pushing each other on the swing, although Brittany's height made it easier for her to push as she was taller than Quinn. _

_On this current day morning though, Brittany was at the dentist, so Quinn was sitting quietly at her desk itching to go and step outside. But she dared to move from her spot, not without Brittany. Brittany was sort of her support guide when it came to being around the other children, Santana Lopez, being the new girl, had noticed this. _

_For the past few days this was all Santana had been doing, noticing things. She would sit at the back of the class and observe her classmates. On her first day she had been introduced to them all individually, although she could only remember certain names. Two of the names that she'd learned were those belonging to two blonde haired girls, Quinn and Brittany. _

_Brittany had the prettiest big blue eyes and was slightly taller than the girls in her class, even some of the boys. She seemed like a girl who was always happy and Santana had never seen her with a smile on her face, other than when they were doing work and she tended to lean over to speak to Quinn with a slight frown._

_Quinn on the other hand, didn't seem to be the smiling type, although from what Santana could see, it didn't phase Brittany the slightest. She tended to keep to herself, other than when she was with the other blonde. On her first day Quinn stood back until everyone had introduced themselves and came over to Santana. Ever so awkwardly she came over to the new girls desk and said "Brittany told me it's nice for me to say hi to you. So… hi. I'm Quinn Fabray… I… umm… have a good first day." And with that she walked back to her desk timidly. _

_When Brittany got back from the dentist she came looking for Quinn in the class room, as soon as the shorter blonde saw her they ran to get her coat. While Quinn was putting her coat on, Brittany walked over to Santana "You can come outside and sit with us if you want, we're going to sit on the grass. It isn't wet today because it hasn't been raining. Last time it rained and we sat on the grass Miss Howard wasn't very happy. But it's dry today so it should be okay," she said beaming down at the seated girl. _

"_Thanks." Was Santana's answer, but she wasn't sure what to do. So she turned back to the window and made no sign of moving. Once the other two girls had left the classroom Santana felt really lonely, having Quinn sit in the classroom had given them both a sense of company. Neither had spoken but they both understood the implications of the silence. Deciding that she could probably end up having some fun if she joined the blondes, she stood up and went to get her coat._

_Santana saw the two blondes sitting on a patch of grass on the yard on her second day, they seemed to be engrossed in a discussion about what seemed to be the grass they were looking at. They looked happy. Quinn was smiling along with Brittany who was making some kind of funny face. Santana smiled shyly and was about to take a step further out to the yard when she found herself being forcefully pushed to the ground. Her side hit the concrete yard within a heartbeat. The next thing she saw were two blonde heads above her. "Are you okay Santana?" It was Brittany, her blue eyes were staring down at her, the other blonde head, Quinn, moved away. She nodded at Brittany as the taller girl helped her to her feet. She turned to the source of the impact and was faced with a rather large boy, he was taller than Brittany and also looked as though he wasn't one for missing meals. David, that was his name, he was one of the boys who had laughed because she had to introduce herself to the whole class._

"_David! What was that for? Don't you know you shouldn't hit girls? Or are you just stupid?" The shorter blonde had pushed herself between David and Santana and her usually pale skin was now red with anger. David didn't seem to know how to react, it was clear that nobody had ever stood up to him before, let alone straight up insulted him. He scoffed and mumbled something about 'silly girls' and ran away to play football with the other boys. _

_Quinn turned back to Santana and smiled. At that moment they both understood; they'd always be there for one another, no matter what. Brittany, Santana and Quinn had been best friends since that day._

"Quinn? Quinn are you okay? Are you hurt?" I started at Santana, not quite trusting my voice I simply turned my head to look at the back door, and then back at Santana, fear evident in my eyes. She looked at me with hope in her eyes. She was hoping that what was going through her head wasn't true. I cast my glance downward, her eyes were burning into me. "Q…"

Santana saw my face, if just for a second, she still saw it. Walking past me silently with caution, I felt my head start to throb. My silent sobs starting to ache my chest.

I heard the door to the back room open, and a gasp.

That did it for me. My legs gave out on me, I crumpled to the floor, my legs folded messily beneath me as I sobbed. I completely forgot about anything else in the world other than the thoughts in my head. _What have I done? What have I done? What am I gonna do? Why is this happening to me? _

My thoughts as well as my sobs stopped automatically as I felt the warmth of my best friend surround me. I continued to cry quietly into her chest as she hugged me, rubbing circles on my back.

As my breaths started to get more even she pulled back and cupped my face and leaned her forehead against mine. She looked into my eyes and in that moment my head was clear.  
>"Quinn. Are you hurt?" I slightly shrugged and looked down. "Quinn." She called my name again, I couldn't do this to her. Looking into her eyes once more I saw that one thing that that first attached me to her; she was going to fight.<p>

"We'll get through this okay? Everything is going to be fine. I promise."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **I'm pretty sure I'm getting a slight idea as to where I'm taking this now. So I'm not confusing anyone, I'm changing the point of view from Quinn's, I think it'll be easier to write, and probably (hopefully) easier to read too.

Review, and send me your ideas and/or criticism, appreciated if it's constructive not destructive I'm probably going to start uploading these chapters as soon as I write them, so maybe one a week or even every other week. I make no promises, but I'll do my best to not disappoint. Enjoy! (If you can)

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><p>*Flashback*<p>

"You don't have to if you don't want to," A seven year old Brittany said reassuringly to the equally as young Santana. "It's not that I don't want to, I… I'm not allowed to." Santana answered hesitantly.

"Why would you not be allowed to tell us why you moved here? That's silly." Was Quinn's know-it-all retort.

"No, no, it's not silly, it's actually super-duper important. It's one of my dad's rules. He told us that we're not allowed to talk about why we move around so much."

The blonde's took a second to digest the information. As they did, Santana's gaze wandered to the boys playing football on the other side of the school yard.

'_Daddy said not to' _She thought _'but it's only Quinn and Brittany'_

"You move around a lot?" The blue eyed blonde inquired, stopping Santana's trail thought.

"Umm yeah I guess, we've never really stayed in the same place for more than a year. But being the new kid is weird; this is the first school I've been to. At home Joey always used to teach me," She answered, not knowing how big a deal this was to the other two.

"So you're moving again next summer? That's like forever away though," Brittany had said somewhat sad, but grew enthusiastic.

"Yeah I guess, but it's okay though, when we move I always get to see loads of cool stuff and meet loads of awesome people." Santana had responded, her mood uplifted by her memories.

"Who's Joey?" Quinn had been quiet until now, listening and absorbing all of the information.

"Oh, he's my brother, well, he's not really my brother but he's like a brother. So I call him my brother. He looks after me when my daddy isn't around, which is kinda a lot, he's been with me forever. He tells me he's like my nanny." Santana giggled slightly at her choice of words.

"So is that why you move around so much, because your daddy isn't around much?" Quinn was working on getting the information that both she and Brittany wanted.

"Umm… kinda. It's because of my daddy's work. He told us it's better if people don't know what he does, not because it's bad or anything, it's just that some people won't understand it, and that means they won't like it."

"So if you tell us, so we can understand, then we won't… won't like it, right Q?" Brittany had said, turning to the other Blonde for back-up.

"Right B!" Quinn had nodded with determination and eagerness.

*End Flashback*

"Q, I don't know if you know this but there's a dead guy on the floor laying in his blood with his dick out, out the back. We should get up." Was Santana's attempt to lighten the situation was glorious, it brought Quinn's tears to an end, although it did not bring a smile from Santana's crude way of light comforting.

"I don't know what to do San," Quinn confessed once they were once again on their feet, as steadily as they could be.

"You don't need to do anything. Just give me your cell and I'll take care of it."

Quinn tried to question the Latina's orders but just earned an eye roll and was presented with a tanned hand awaiting the object in her pocket. She complied and watched as Santana quickly punched in a sequence of numbers before lifting the phone up to her left ear with her left hand. She then gave the anxious blonde a reassuring smile and grasped Quinn's hand with her free hand, squeezing all of the worries out.

"Hey Joe, yeah it's me… no it's in my car, this is Quinn's phone. Look we've got a problem, I need your help. No I'm fine… at Mr. Brown's store… yeah that one… okay… wait, Joe, you might wanna bring Tommy with you… yup… and Q's staying over tonight, so could you get some-… yeah, bacon. See ya." She hung up the phone and slipped it back into Quinn's pocket gently.

"You didn't have to, y'know," Quinn mumbled half-heartedly, her eyes seemed to be glued to the tiles that always needed cleaning.

"No, you're right, I didn't have to but, look at me," Quinn's eyes floated upwards slowly unil they were met with a soft brown pair of friendly orbs, gazing back. "But," Santana continued, "I wanted to. I'm always gonna want to. And sorry Fabray, but there's no stopping Santana Lopez, you should know that by now," The Brunette stated proudly, feigning smugness.

This did make the blonde smirk slightly. "Right, because you're awesome" She encouraged Santana, but with sarcasm dripping off of her words.

"Uh-huh, I'm awesome, wait- hey, you're supposed to agree with me," Santana pretend to be deeply offended, ripping both or her hands away from the Blonde and placing them securely over her chest, faking her hurt.

Quinn watched the Brunette's act and just smiled, before she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the Latina's waist, resting her head in the crook of her of the other girls neck, making Santana drop her hands to her sides. "But seriously though, you are awesome, you should know that." Santana took a second to react, knowing that Quinn was never one to show this much affection towards anyone. Especially her. So she returned the gesture, placing her arms around the vulnerable girl in front of her. "Stop worrying. Q. It's gonna be okay." Was all Santana had said, reading Quinn better than anyone could- other than Brittany- and then they stood like that in silence for a few moments.

Once they heard the door bell ring, Quinn's head shot up to look over Santana's shoulder and Santana ripped herself away from their warm embrace to face the door.

In front of them stood quite a tall man in what you could call a casual suit. He had black skinny jeans on, with black and white converse. A loose white dress shirt and a dark grey waistcoat which he wore open. He had a short mop of black curls on his is head and is blue eyes stood out from the smile he was giving the two teenagers. "Ladies," he greeted the girls with a single word and a slight nod of the head.

He took a step to the side and allowed another man to walk in behind him. This man was equally as tall, although his build was not as full. He was also wearing a 'casual suit' although his waistcoat was black and buttoned up to fit him perfectly.

"San, you aren't hurt are you?" He stepped forward toward the girls, a calm expression on his face but he was obviously concerned.

Santana was the first to react, "Joey," she let out a breath. "No, I'm not hurt, but…" she turned to look at Quinn "You might want to send Tommy out the back." With that she lifted her fist and pointed her thumb out toward the back door.

Joey took a glance at Quinn, a thoughtful look on his face, he took in her dishevelled clothes and hair and the tear stained face. "Of course. Tommy!" He called, and from over his shoulder appeared another tall man of a full build. A 'casual suit' also graced his body, although his head was as bare as a newborn baby. On his back was what appeared to be an army duffel, the carrier straps over his shoulders like a rucksack. He wore dark sunglasses, covering his eyes.

"Yes Joe," He mumbled, as if following orders.

"The back room, this way." He placed his hand on Santana's shoulder as he walked past and quietly said to her, "Drive home San, both of you have a shower, and eat something. Then get some rest. I'll be home really soon okay? Things will be done here in an hour." With that he stepped toward Quinn, who shied away from him slightly. "Quinn, go with Santana and I'll speak to you later. Hey, don't worry, everything is going to be okay," he told her gently.

Quinn looked into his eyes and for a second, seeing nothing but friendliness, she gave a slight nod and joined Santana in her walk to the car.

Once they got to the car Santana opened the passenger door for Quinn and gently placed her hand on the small of Quinn's back, guiding her into her seat. She stepped back once the blonde was seated she waited a second. When Quinn made no movement and looked up at the brunette with a questioning look. "Belt," was Santana's only response. When the blonde complied she gave a pleased smirk and closed the car door.

Santana then moved around to the driver's side and got in. She put her keys in the ignition, as she went to turn the keys she was stopped by a pale hand placed on top of hers. She turned to the blonde and was about to ask if she was okay, but was interrupted by a simple, "Belt." Smugly Quinn withdrew her hand and as waited patiently as she could. Santana did as she was told then started the engine. Glancing through her mirrors she then pulled the car onto the road, headed back to her home- her mansion- in east Lima, but not before setting a wary eye on her agitated passenger. Deciding there was nothing she could do at that moment to comfort the blonde, she drove on.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note: **I know, I know. It's been a while. And trust me, I'm really sorry. School has been annoying (As expected) and busy (also as expected) but I'm trying, I'll keep trying until... well, just until. (For now)

So for now, enjoy, review, blah blah and y'know the rest

When they pulled into one of the several garages of the Lopez Estate, Santana was the first one to make a move. She got out of the car and looked at the unmoving blonde. Santana walked around to the passenger side and opened the door. Only then did Quinn take off her seatbelt and get out to walk beside Santana, into the house, into the kitchen. They walked out of the room once Santana grabbed two bottles of water from the refrigerator, and then went upstairs.

Once in Santana's bedroom, the brunette put the two bottles of water on the desk then turned to face Quinn, who was still stood in the doorway. Quinn had been in this house, in this room countless times. But never had anything looked so unfamiliar to her. Every single detail was now foreign. She studied the room.  
>A desk, a king sized bed, a walk-in closet on the left and an en-suite bathroom on the right. There was a chest of drawers on the left wall, next to the window seat. The room was simple in detail. But as plain and dark as it was, it couldn't be more personal to Santana.<p>

Santana gently cleared her throat, making the blonde jump slightly. Their eyes locked and they seemed to freeze. "Joey should be home soon, so go and have a shower. I'll get you some clothes, and then we'll go eat, okay?" Quinn nodded and Santana ushered her to the bathroom as if she were a baby taking her first step, her hand barely resting on the small of Quinn's back.

Once she heard the spray of the water hitting the shower floor, Santana turned to her chest of drawers and pulled out the sweats and an old football jersey of her brother's for Quinn to wear.

Then she picked up the house phone on the bedside table, calling the one downstairs. '_There's got to be someone in the kitchen' _she told herself. When the call was answered almost immediately she kindly asked for some bacon sandwiches to start being made.

"Would you like me to bring them up for you?" came the voice over the phone.

"No, no, thanks, we'll come down for it in a bit." After that she hung up. '_Being the daughter of the boss of the modern mafia you're a part of has its perks' _she thought merrily, then came the next thought, '_Not always the best thing though…' _Her mind wandered to that one unforgettable day 5 years ago.

That damned babysitter.

*Flashback*

She had told Joey that she didn't need a babysitter, but he insisted, telling her that it was what her father wanted. So Santana stuck her nose out, her head tilted with her arms folded across her chest, her signature hip-cock and stated "It's not like I'll even know he's there, one week isn't even that long."  
>The next morning Santana stood in her garage, in front of Joe's car watching three men load their gear into the shiny black transit van. While Joe put his duffel in the trunk of his black muscle car, Santana glanced at her shadow for the next seven days. A scrawny young man, one of her Daddy's new recruits, probably fresh out of high school. Santana was not impressed, he looked like a nervous wreck, and he was in charge of the Boss' most valuable thing, his most prized possession.<p>

His daughter.

Santana looked up at Joey with pleading eyes and voiced her thoughts "But Joey…" She almost whined, dragging out the last syllable of his name. "It's only a week and you'll be back real soon. Plus, I'm almost a grown up anyway. I don't need a babysitter." The younger Lopez had a knack for persuasion when it came to pretty much anyone, but then again Joey wasn't 'pretty much anyone' he was… well, he was Joey. Yet, she always tried

"San, you know I wouldn't do this unless I really have to. You just promise me you won't give Damian too much of a hard time, alright? He's here to take care of you."

He had crouched down so that he was eye level with the young girl, placing a hand on her shoulder as he spoke. Santana chanced a glance at her figurative brother, knowing that she couldn't say no to him. So she put on her 'whatever' face and nodded with a mumbled "I promise." Not attempting to object to his statement of her needing to be 'taken care of'.

Joey returned to her with smile and leaned in to kiss her on the forehead with a slight ruffle of her long, deep brown hair.

He stood up and turned to Damian with a stern face and said, "You're going to take care of her," Then faced Santana once more with a warm smile, leaving the babysitter quivering. "I'll be back before you know it San," And with that he got out into his car and set off to work with the three burly men in the transit behind him. Once they were out of sight, Santana turned to walk straight into the house.

"Santana? Santana! Shouldn't you do some of that homework Joey gave you?" Was all the girl could hear from behind her as she made her way to her study room.

"It's the summer, stupid. No school, tutoring or homework over the summer," Was Santana's responses before she slammed the door to her study in Damian's face.

The babysitter stood there dumbfounded, already regretting accepting this job. Not looking forward to the next week, but promising himself he'd do his best to survive nonetheless. He had no idea what he was in for. "W-well your dinner will be ready in an hour so don't be late," He stood there, attempting to show power through his voice. He was clueless.

After the fourth morning Santana had just about had enough. Damien was pathetic, in her eyes. He stuttered, stammered, he tripped over his words and attempted to be the boss. They had just got a phone call from Joey, telling them he'd be home the next day instead of staying the extra two days.

"I'll be home tomorrow so I'll take that wimp off of your hands. See you tomorrow kiddo, I'll probably be back around two or three. Bye," Is what he told her, merrily, briefly. Obviously the job went off without a problem. If it hadn't, then he wouldn't be home on time, let alone early, and he also wouldn't have been so happy.

Damian called Santana down to the kitchen for food around midday, interrupting Santana from her book. Personal studying, she told Joey when he called her a bookworm. She threw her glasses down with a huff and pushed her chair out from underneath her desk then stoop up.

'_Just one more day, then he's gone.' _ She thought in an attempt to motivate herself somewhat.

Santana dragged herself to the kitchen, not without struggle, and sat up on one of the light leather stools at the island in the centre of the room. Santana sat silently, politely waiting for her meal. When Damian placed her plate clumsily in front of her. She eyed the contents of the dish, chicken, not bad, mushroom was also something she could make out in the mash up of vegetables.

"What's in this?" She spat out, poking her food with a fork. Staring at it as though she was half expecting it to grow legs and then run away.

"Just some fresh chicken breasts, slice and diced, then fried with a sesame oil and h-"

"WHAT? Are you trying to poison me?" Her voice rose and Damien sat there in shock.

"What? Don't be stupid, of course I'm not!"

"Stupid! I'm stupid now?" She was livid, to say that the temper on the eleven-year-old was completely terrifying, was understatement. Damian jumped out of his seat and put his hands out defensively in front of him.

"You idiot! Don't you listen to a thing you're told?" She shouted, not impressed when Damien attempted to answer her obviously rhetorical question.

"I- no. I- I mean yes. I do- I just-" His unconvincing excuses were cut short as he doubled over and fell to his knees, clutching his stomach in pain.

Above him, looking down on him, was an enraged Santana Lopez.

Her eyes seems to have gone bloodshot, her tiny fists now clenched so hard she had started to bleed slightly out of the crescent shaped grazes on her palms. Her body had gone completely stiff, her only movement was her temples rising as she clenched and unclenched her jaw.

She spoke two words. "Shut up." And with that she started moving without thought.

Her anger from the past few days had built up and was now being unleashed on the terrified young man, who was now curled up on the floor.

_Joey leaving her. Sticking her with this pathetic excuse for a man. Said pathetic excuse bossing her around unfairly. 'Don't do that. Don't say that. Go and do this. Go and do that.' _She hadn't had a second of peace without him burning holes into her as he watched over her shoulder. With every reason that made up her anger, she kicked him. With every kick, she gave one more, twice as hard, to make sure he felt it.

A blow or two to his head and his cries for help quietened, but not silenced.

Another few kicks and he had stopped struggling to defend himself.

Santana only realised she had stopped lashing out when she heard the voice behind her. "Shh, Santana, it's okay. You can stop now. It's okay."

She turned to the source of the voice she longed to hear, those comforting hands rubbing slow circles on her shoulder blades as she clutched onto his now creased shirt collar. Santana didn't say a word as her father held her.

Nicholas Lopez had been seen in many ways, being a father was only for his children's eyes and his children's eyes only.

The man on the floor was barely alive, he was very much unconscious, and his breathing was slow and shaky. But her was alive.

Santana had not realised who was holding her, or who she was grasping onto for her life, but then it hit her. The musky scent on his cologne, that metallic smell she could never place, but always found comfort in. She snatched her hands away from his collar and stoop up straight, she sniffled once more and blinked away the remaining tears from her eyes.

"Papi I…" She realised that she didn't know what to say to him.

The older Lopez was still crouched at eye level with his daughter. His face was blank, giving off no emotion. His deep brown eyes- identical to Santana's- flickered to the unmoving man on the floor behind his daughter then back to Santana.

Santana saw the shift in his gaze and tensed up once again. She opened her mouth to try and speak but was stopped by a single calloused, worn but warm finger to her lips.

"You don't have to say anything. Just Listen," His tone was gentle, quiet, but just loud enough so that Santana could hear him. "I'm only home because I heard Joey will be back early and I needed to speak to him. I know he's not due back until tomorrow, so I came to see you Mija. I heard you screaming so I came to see what was going on in here. No, I'm not angry with you. I don't want you to forget what's happened here though, okay?"

He paused for a moment while Santana nodded her understanding, her lip quivering slightly. Nicholas placed his hands gently on his daughter's shoulders , and as she relaxed into the touch, he continued speaking. "I mean it San, I'm not angry with you. I'm sorry. I know how you're feeling right now, one day, when you're older, you'll understand why I'm saying this to you." Again he paused, to make sure she was paying attention. She was. "I'm sorry Mija. You probably don't get it right now, but I'm sorry. Now I want you to go and clean up, upstairs, and when you come back down, we'll have something to eat. You'll be okay Santana, he will too." This wasn't so much a demand as it was reassurance, Nicholas was comforting her.

He ushered her to the bottom of their staircase and nodded when she paused at the first step and glanced at him. After she received encouragement from her usually absent, but still loving father, she made her way to her bathroom, aware of those familiar eyed still watching her every step. Only when she closed her door behind her did she let out a breath she was unaware that she was holding in.

Back in the kitchen, Mr. Lopez had called in Tommy from one of the staff houses on the other side of the estate. Tommy was his official, personal, 'clean-up man' and one of his oldest friends. Tommy saw the young man on the floor and scrunched his face up in confusion.

"Isn't that Santana's babysitter?" Tommy asked, already fearing the upcoming conversation.

"Yes… Tommy… she's only eleven. I thought she could stay out of this. Now I have no choice. What… is she too young? Even after… after this?" Nicholas gestured to the man on the floor.

Tommy kneeled down and stretched two of his fingers out to feel Damian's pulse. "Too young? Nico, you were born fighting. Your brother started working when her was seven and he-"

"And look where that got him. It got him in a hospital bed telling me what he wanted me to write on his gravestone the next week. Tommy… she's my only daughter. Losing Rico to this, and now Joey is, he's my son now, he's part of this too."

They were silent for a moment, both calm and the Nicholas spoke again. "Tom, could you take care of this? Make him better, get him treated. I want him to live, I owe him that much."

Nicholas ' sudden change in attitude did not shock Tommy, all he could do was nod.

Before Nicholas left the room, Tommy put his hand on his shoulder and said "Nico, it's not your fault. This was bound to happen, there was nothing you could do to stop it. And things are going to happen in the future that you won't be able to stop. She will probably join, and you will have to accept that. It's not what you want to hear, I know. But you need to, best from me than anyone else, I'm sorry."

Nicholas deflated at this, he was waiting for those words. The only response that Tommy got from his friend was a saddened smile and a simple few words.

"That damned Lopez temper. He just didn't know she's allergic to sesame."

With a devastated air about him, Nicholas walked out of the room.


	5. Chapter 5

**I know it's been… well, a few months since I've updated, and I feel really bad for it. I have to tell you guys that this fic is gonna be pretty slow, I can promise that I won't stop writing, but it will be slow. I've been busy with exams, and mocks (fake-exams) and revision and then work on the weekends. So basically, my free time is non-existent.  
>But now! Now I have only this week left in school before summer break! I'll get the next chapter up before then end of summer, I promise. Bye for now.<strong>

**But here is chapter 5. Enjoy, feel free to review if you want, and thanks for reading.**

"S? …Santana?" Quinn had just got out of the shower and wrapped herself in the warm embrace of the towels left out for her. When she walked out of Santana's bathroom, she found the brunette sitting on the window seat, leaning against the wall with her legs outstretched in front of her. Santana didn't move as Quinn emerged from the bathroom, trapped in her thoughts and memories as she stared pointlessly at her lap.

When Quinn spoke, Santana's head shot up faster than she anticipated, causing her bones to make that cracking noise when the air bubbles are released room in between the joints. At that sound, Quinn winced, another wave of overpowering, confusing emotions surged through the blonde.

Santana noticed Quinn's movement and made to stand to walk over to her, but Quinn taking a few steps toward her glued her in place.

Once Quinn was stood right beside Santana, she looked down at her best friend. Santana made no move besides shifting her eyes around the room, then back at Quinn. Only when she looked from Quinn's toes, up toward her face did she realise that she was still only clothed by the towel. She took in the sight of one of her oldest, closest, best friends, taking in the way the towel graced her body, fitting perfectly. Tones muscles were slightly visible in her upper arms, her collar bones were poking through the pale, glowing skin, slight goose bumps could be seen on her arms and chest bringing Santana back to reality.

"Clothes…" The brunette mumbled "They're…"

"On the bed?" Quinn finished, turning to the bed once receiving a nod from Santana.

"Do you want me to-"

"No. No… you can stay there… please…" Quinn said, not seeing Santana's sympathetic look as her back was turned to her.

"Okay… it's okay, I'm not going anywhere." The implications in Santana's words were very much appreciated by Quinn.

Once she was dressed, she turned to Santana, who kept her silent promise, she hadn't moved from the window seat. The blonde walked to the window and lifted her leg to move over the brunette. As she sat there, straddling Santana's thighs, she lifted her limp hands to thread them through Santana's dark soft hair. The girl beneath her eyed her, not judgingly, almost curiously, but with a blank expression on her face, she shifted slightly so that Quinn was sitting on her thighs- still straddling her- and the two were eye level.

Quinn slowly moved forward, waiting for some sort of response from Santana. She got none.

As their lips touched, Santana felt something inside of her click. She understood what Quinn was doing as she parted her lips slightly to grant entrance to the girl on top of hers tongue.

After a few seconds, Santana gently pushed Quinn back.

"No, Quinn." Santana said, feeling slightly guilty.

The blonde looked back at her best friend, disappointment in her hazel eyes, which were still, to some degree, pink around the rims because she had been crying. She didn't understand why Santana pushed her back.

"But, San… I just…" '_Just what?'_ she thought to herself.

"Q, I know. Trust me; I know how you're feeling. If I'd had someone there to stop me from fucking the half of Lima that was willing, then I would have felt much better. I know this is what you think you need. But… it isn't. Sorry Q." Santana was holding Quinn's hands as she said this, their fingers laced. Pale slim fingers stood out from the tan lithe digits and vice versa.

Quinn's gaze had dropped to where their hips were almost meeting; Santana's dark skinny yet baggy jeans were warming her up from beneath.

She then looked up into Santana's eyes and saw everything she wanted, everything she needed. Santana was there for her, caring for her, there to help her.

The blonde felt the tears well up in her eyes, although they did not fall.

Quinn felt the need to speak, to say something. So she asked the only question that came to her head.

"San, why are you… why are you trying to save me?"

The Latina looked at her with a disbelieving look, but she just smiled and looked Quinn in the eyes. "You're welcome Q. Now let's go eat that bacon I know your mouth is watering for,"  
>With that, she led the blonde downstairs, to the kitchen, where her mouth was indeed watering.<p>

Santana sat on the stool, on the left, at the island, leaving Quinn to sit on the right. Within moments a short rather plump woman placed several bacon sandwiches on a plate in front of Quinn, and a side plate with some eggs and sausages on it. The woman walked away and came back with another plate for Santana and then two mugs of coffee for each of the teenagers. Santana thanked the woman while Quinn just sat staring at the food in front of her.

Was she hungry? Yes. Did she want to eat? Yes. Did she think she could hold the food down? Not quite.

"Just try some. If you can't keep it down, we'll try again later." Came Santana's voice from beside her. She looked at her best friend then back at her food unblinkingly.

Santana turned back to her own plate and slowly started to cut up some meat. Quinn knew that Santana was watching her, even if she was facing her plate.  
>Quinn was eyeing up her bacon as if it were going to jump up and attack her. She picked up one sandwich and put it to her lips. As she bit into it, some ketchup dripped out from the bottom and landed on the plate with a 'splat' sound. Quinn dropped the sandwich and bolted to the bathroom, Santana not far behind. At the bathroom door, Santana paused and looked at her friend leaning over the toilet bowl. She sighed before crouching down beside her friend and gathering the short blonde hair into one hand and resting the other on the small of Quinn's back, rubbing small circles to comfort her.<p>

As the dry heaving stopped, Quinn pulled her head out of the toilet and rested her forehead on her arm on the edge of the bowl. After a few seconds of silence, Santana heard small sniffles coming from Quinn, as her shoulders started to shake slightly.

"Quinn, its o-" She started but was cut off by a soft knock on the open door. She and Quinn turned their heads toward the doorway, where a sympathetic looking Joey stood, leaning on the doorframe.

"Not up for food you guys?" He soon stepped grinning as soon as Santana gave him one of her signature death glares.

He sighed, looked at Quinn, then walked over to the sink and grabbed a glass, filling it with water. He reached into the medicine cupboard above the sink and pulled out a bottle of pills, he tipped two pills out of the bottle before putting it back on the shelf. Turning to the teenagers he said to Quinn, "Here, take these, they'll settle your stomach." Quinn took the pills and downed the rest of the water before taking a deep breath and mumbling a thank you to Joe. Santana stoop up then turned to Joe.

"Those will probably make you. Drowsy, so you go take a nap, rest up, then we can talk when you're ready. Okay?" Joe said, keeping his eyes away from Santana.

Quinn stood slowly. When she was sure she was steady, she nodded then allowed Santana to guide he up to the Latina's bedroom. As they left the bathroom they paused at the bottom of the staircase, hearing the front door open.

A short brunette stormed in, what looked like a guitar case in her right hand, grumbling to herself. "Fucking idiot, _on the eighth floor, _he said, _never any security on the eighth floor, _I'll stitch his dick to his face next time I see him, that asshole,"

Only then did she realise that she was being watched as she took off her coat and shoes to put them in a garbage bag as she spoke. She looked up to see Santana staring at her with a glare. She then shifted her eyes to Quinn, seeing a terrified and confused look in her red-rimmed hazel eyes.

"Rachel...?" Quinn managed to choke out. Quinn began to feel unsteady on her feet, using the closest thing to her to cling onto for support, it happened to ne Santana. Santana wrapped an arm around the blonde's waist, guiding her up the stairs, not before calling over her shoulder to the brunette who still stood in front of the door. "Rach, Joe is in the study I think, he'll explain. I'll be down in a bit." With that she made her way to her bedroom with Quinn, closing the door behind her.

"You know where the bathroom is, help yourself, y'know, make yourself at home and that..." Santana said once Quinn was sitting comfortably, up against the headboard of Santana's bed.

The brunette stood at the foot of the bed, looking at the floor, which was suddenly very interesting.

"San?" The blonde murmured, making Santana look up at her. "What's going on? Why is… Why's Rachel here?"

"Quinn, I promise to tell you as much as I can, only if you promise not to overdo it. Just rest for now, alright?"

"Right. Okay. Hey San...?" The blonde hesitated.

"Yah Q?" Santana encouraged.

"Will you stay with me... just for a little while?" Quinn had suddenly decided that her words were stupid, but she'd already said them, there was nothing she could do now.

"Of course Q. I'll be right here when you wake up."

"Thanks San..." Quinn managed to mumble, just as her eyes started to close.

Santana sat at the end of her bed and sighed. "What have I got you in to Q?" She mumbled, then stood and decided she should go and see the other brunette and her brother downstairs before Quinn woke up.


End file.
